


come inside, twist the knife

by wynchestirs



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M, POV Second Person, spn is just one big long 15 year slow burn wincest fanfic, the finale made me do it, the stanford confession made me do it
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-11 01:08:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28176660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wynchestirs/pseuds/wynchestirs
Summary: just go to him, dean, what’s the worst he could tell you?
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Comments: 6
Kudos: 72





	come inside, twist the knife

**Author's Note:**

> lapselock for the aesthetic  
> title taken from mad iqs by idk how but they found me

you run your hands over the worn leather of the steering wheel, wringing out the last drops of comfort baby can give you before you’re forced to come to terms with what you need to do - what you want to do. dad’s been missing for a minute too long, it’s not like him and you’re worried. but you’d be lying if you said the idea of finally having a good reason to bother sam didn’t make your heart stutter once or twice. you look out the window, you’ve got a direct vantage point of sam’s dorm. you’ve been here too many times to count, watching from this angle. hoping, praying, wishing for things you think you don’t deserve. 

_just go to him, dean, what’s the worst he could tell you?_

he could say no. 

\--

you waste time chatting up some of the co-eds that you see as you make your way towards sam’s dorm. you remember some of them as sam’s friends, you pretend it doesn’t sting that none of them seem to recognise you; sam mustn’t have any pictures around. you ignore the photo of sam - just turned 16, smiling big enough that his nose broadens and his dimples look carved into his face, eyes bright like sunflowers floating in azure waters - that you keep tucked away in your wallet. you’ve never shown it to anyone either, so sam can’t be solely blamed. 

the sun is beginning to duck behind the trees, you’re still wasting time. you look at your watch then back up at the building. the building, the institution, that stole your brother from you; that made you realise he might have never been yours in the first place. you’re proud of sam, you are. you’ve always been proud. but did he really have to leave for good? did he have to leave and then start dating that girl-

loud cheers startle you and you look around and suddenly, where there had been students dressed in casual clothes, there are students in costume. a particularly slutty nurse walks by you, gives you a charming smile. it’s halloween. sammy _hates_ halloween. so he’ll be home, maybe his girlfriend will go to a party and you can have a moment alone with him. maybe. 

so you hang back and wait. off to the shadows, you’re so good at going unnoticed when you want to. 

you wait. 

\--

and there he is. 

your breathing hitches. your chest aches, every scar you ever sustained saving your brother cries out for him. 

_sam_ . he’s not supposed to be going to the party.. what is he doing? he hates halloween. he’s not even in costume. she is, though. and she’s dragging him along with her. but you can see his smile even from here, and it feels like you’re dying. he’s as beautiful as the last day you saw him, the last day he saw you. your baby brother. your reason. you were banking on being able to talk to him alone. fuck, now what are you going to do? _sam, why are you going with her? you_ **_hate_ ** _halloween._

he suddenly looks over his shoulder, as if someone called his name and you wonder if you said it without realising. you shift further into the shadows, can tell that sam has that expectant searching look on his face. sam shakes his head and follows after her. 

you exhale. 

\-- 

_what the fuck are you even doing here, dean?_

you’re sitting on a bench some yards away from the dorm, toying with the idea of leaving. you have no idea why you’re here. you don’t need sam to find dad, you’re a damn good hunter all on your own and you’ve made yourself familiar with dad’s old network of buddies. why are you here? for sam to send you home with your tail between your legs? he’s done that once before, are you a glutton for punishment? 

you drag your hands over your face, your ring scrapes over the stubble on your cheeks. 

truth be told you want sam back. you miss him beside you, you miss the quarrels, you miss the fights, you miss sam being a know-it-all, you miss the sound of sam breathing as he sleeps harmonising with the purr of baby’s motor. you miss the way he looked at you like you were a god to worship. you miss him. 

you look back out towards sam’s dorm, they’re coming back now, hand in hand. two giggling messes, a little unsteady on their feet and you hate it. and you hate yourself for hating it because this is clearly what sam has always wanted, right? a life away from dad, from the job, and if it means being away from you it’s a small price to pay, right? you laugh bitterly, you should’ve known better. 

\--

the worst isn’t just saying no. no, that’s not the worst that could happen when you greet sam. no would hurt, it would be a poisoned needle embedded into your skin, sending shockwaves of agony with every beat of your heart. but it wouldn’t be the worst. you’ve been living with chronic pain ever since sam left. 

the worst… the absolute worst thing sam could say to you is to tell you to go to hell. _go die, dean._

you might just do what he asks. 

\-- 

if you’re not careful people are going to call campus police for you. you know you look like a crazy person, just sitting there watching a dorm for hours. sometimes you get up and make your way to the building but you turn back and sit down again just watching; waiting. 

_what the fuck are you going to do if sam rejects you, dean?_

you can tell yourself that going to stanford was a see you later, see you when i get my life figured out. you can tell yourself that was merely the ending of a chapter. but what are you going to do if sam tells you for once and for all he wants nothing to do with you? what are you going to do if his life here with that girl, and these friends, and this school is so good he can’t leave for one second to go find dad? what are you going to do… if he doesn’t want a brother anymore?

the thought makes you nauseous and you almost decide to leave then and there. you’ve been out here for hours and you don’t even have a beer to make the wait easy. if you leave you can pretend you never came, and you never have to know how sam really feels about you. 

you look out at the dorm again. 

and you notice a fire escape leading up to a window. 

\--

and so you let yourself in.

\--

from the very first contact you can tell sam’s out of practice. and why wouldn’t he be? there’s no reason to keep up sparring practice out here. but as the fight continues you can feel the innate reflexes and instincts kicking in. you’re dance partners, you always have been, that hasn’t changed. you almost feel like laughing with joy. 

sam’s left an opening, a familiar opening, an opening he’s never learned how to close. for a second you’re brought back to being teenagers. you know how to move now to bring him down. even when sammy shot up like a weed you knew how to bring him down. 

sam’s pulse beneath your fingertips lights up something in you that has laid dormant for so long. if you’re not careful you’ll… you’ll… you’ll do something that you regret, you’ll let the cat out of the bag, you’ll reveal your darkest, most heinous secret. you’ll tell him, you’ll tell him that missing him has felt like you've been inhaling shards of glass. you’ll tell him that sometimes you sleep with tall women with shaggy hair and eyes like sunflowers. you’ll beg him to not let you go. you’ll tell him it’s always been him, it’s only ever been him. been him. been _sam_. 

so you swallow it down, like you always do. like you always have. 

“whoa! easy, tiger.” 

and you smile, because happiness has never tasted so bitter. 

  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> the spn finale ruined me


End file.
